


Bittersweet

by sifuhotman



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10000118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sifuhotman/pseuds/sifuhotman
Summary: A collection of canon-compliant one shots exploring Zuko and Katara's friendship (and eventual romance).Because if there's any word I'd used to describe Zutara, it's bittersweet (sweet because they are sweet) (bitter because I am bitter) (ten years later, nothing's changed).





	1. Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place after Katara faces her mother's killer, Katara and Zuko reflect on Katara's mercy, "right" versus "wrong" thing, and above all else, hope.

_SETTING: Season 3, Ep. 16: "The Southern Raiders." - The time between Katara displaying mercy on Yon Rha and meeting back up with the rest of the Gang._

"Are you cold?"

Zuko shivered, digging his chapped fingers into Appa's coat. His clothes and hair were still wet from the earlier rain, and flying in the clouds didn't help. The morning sun was still nowhere in sight; Zuko yearned for it to come sooner rather than later. He sat atop Appa's head while steering, as he had been for the past few hours, and glanced behind to see the back of Katara's head. Zuko had no doubt that she was preoccupied with a mess of thoughts. Confronting your mother's killer would do that to you. "Are you cold?" he repeated, not even really sure why he was asking; it wasn't like he could do anything to make her feel warmer.

"I'm fine." Her voice was coarse, thick with a multitude of emotions that Zuko himself could identify with. Bitterness, rage, wrath, but above all else, sadness. In a strange way, Zuko felt comforted by the fact that he wasn't the only tempest of the group. Though, his emotions had managed to gather themselves together remarkably well over the past couple of weeks.

Zuko felt even more comforted that Katara, of all people, was the one who was overcome by emotions. It meant that he wasn't a completely horrible person.

Zuko wondered if he should say something, especially since they were getting closer to camp, but he didn't know what. " _You did the right thing_ ," felt awkward and strange, because Zuko wasn't quite sure  _what_  the right thing was. It seemed that he never did.

 _If only Uncle were here to guide me_.

The thought dropped like a sack of rocks into Zuko's mind and straight to his gut. Instantly, he felt the guilt and shame threatening to make him—spirits forbid— _cry_ , but he managed to regain his composure. Thinking about the good that they'd had, rather than the fact that he'd messed things up by betraying him, helped.

Like the day Uncle first opened the doors to the Jasmine Dragon. The day when they believed that the Earth King really was inviting them to the royal palace (well, ignoring the fact that it was one of Azula's tricks, it really was quite a nice memory to have). The day Uncle tried to set him up with that girl in Ba Sing Se.

It turned out that Uncle knew exactly what Zuko needed and when he needed it, but now that Uncle wasn't around, Zuko was left to figure things out on his own.

As it had done many times that night, Zuko's mind wandered off and he thought about his own mother. His father had said that she was banished, not executed, for her "treason," whatever that may be. So she may very well be alive and waiting for Zuko to find her. A small flame flickered inside of him. His father had sparked  _hope_  in him. Or perhaps it was all just foolishness.

But, then again, Aang had been Zuko's source of hope for years: hope for his honor, his father's acceptance, his place on the throne…and so far, his hope hadn't failed him. Although it didn't turn out the way he'd imagined. Zuko may have no longer hoped for Ozai's "love" and "acceptance"—Zuko doubted Ozai was even capable of loving, anyway—but he had, dare he say, friends. He felt like he belonged with these people.

Well, except for Katara. He still had no idea where they stood relative to one another.

The sky above them began to brighten gradually, going from a murky black to a dark gray. Zuko breathed out a small puff of hot air, a short, gentle ember bursting from his mouth before dissipating. A narrow strip of land made its way into Zuko's vision. "We're almost here."

Katara didn't respond.

Appa landed at the end of wooden dock protruding from the bay. Zuko rubbed his eyes and jumped off, feet landing almost without any sound. Katara hopped off, her back turned away from Zuko and towards the vast expanse of the ocean. Zuko noticed that she'd shed her dark outer layers and was now in her typical Water Tribe uniform. Appa began making his way down the dock while Katara took a seat at the edge of it, with Zuko caught in between keeping Katara company and returning to camp. He yawned and realized how exhausted he was, then, thinking that some time alone would be better for her, began following Appa's steps.

"Wait." Katara's voice halted him in his steps. It sounded so  _vulnerable_  that Zuko wasn't sure how to react. "Can you…do you mind just sitting?" The  _with me_  perched right on the tip of her tongue; it didn't need to be spoken for Zuko to hear it.

"Of course not," he said quietly. Zuko didn't know how close or far was deemed appropriate—after all, every time he got near Katara, she seemed to close up her guard even further—but the width of the dock didn't offer much wiggle room. He sat cross-legged to the right of Katara, who stared down absentmindedly as the tips of her toes skimmed the surface of the water. Was he supposed to say something? Or just sit here awkwardly like a limp noodle? His relationship with Katara—if it could even be called that—was, at this point, very fragile, and the last thing Zuko wanted to do was ruin it by saying something stupid.

Thankfully, Zuko didn't have to initiate conversation. "Did I do the right thing?" Katara's brows were drawn so far down and her lips pursed in such a tight line. Zuko was familiar with that look. He knew that look because she'd given it to him a countless number of times, so it was strange to see it directed at something else. It was almost uncanny how much Katara's expression mirrored that of angry-Zuko's. Her cobalt eyes were darker and her usually radiant features seemed strangely warped.

Katara, the mother of the group, the caretaker, the compassionate, loving one—was full of hate. Whether or not it was loathing towards Yon Rha or towards herself for not killing him, Zuko didn't know. But he was certain that this little glimpse into who she was right now was something that he'd only see once in his lifetime.

"You're asking  _me_ , of all people?" Zuko's lips curved into the slightest of smiles. It was no secret that Zuko's past morals had been extremely questionable. "Talk about irony."

The side of her mouth lips twisted up ever so slightly, but that didn't last long. "Do you?"

Zuko paused. "I think you did a good thing," he answered slowly.

"But not the right thing."

"I don't know if you did the right thing," Zuko said, "But I know but you did a good thing."

"I bloodbended a man."

The word sent shivers down Zuko's spine. He'd seen Katara in action—hell, he'd been on the receiving end of her skill. He'd seen her heal and he'd seen her in battle, but this was a whole new level. The amount of raw power, precision and deadly accuracy Katara had, manipulating a person's liquid in their body? Not to mention the extreme control she had over the ice spears she'd thrown at Yon Rha, stopping them only mere inches from his body. Katara was definitely a more powerful bender than he'd realized.

Though he'd never admit it, Zuko knew that if they were ever to spar when Katara was at her strongest, he'd lose in about two seconds flat.

"You were angry."

"I  _bloodbended_  an innocent man." Katara stared down at her hands then clenched her fists and grit her teeth. "Something I'd  _vowed_  to never do, ever since Hama had revealed it to me, and I did it  _without a second thought…_ "

"Good people do bad things," Zuko replied. "But you did a good thing, sparing your mother's killer's life."

"It doesn't feel good," she said. "Actually, it feels pretty bad. My mother, she…I loved her. It's not fair for her, for me—"

"Your mother's gone, Katara," Zuko said softly, "and it's not your fault." He looked down at his own reflection in the water. He said it partly to himself. He wanted to and needed to believe it. "It's not your fault she loved you so much."

Katara sighed. She still hadn't glanced at Zuko, but instead leaned forward with her resting elbows on her knees. "That's the thing, Zuko. It  _is_  my fault. If I hadn't been born a waterbender—"

"Stop."

"Or if my mother had just told him it was—"

"If your mother had willingly given you up to Yon Rha," Zuko firmly said, "then you'd be dead. Sokka would have to grow up an only child and your parents would have to live with the pain of losing a daughter." Zuko watched streams of light pour over the horizon and, feeling the warmth tingling his skin, felt more awake than before. "If you weren't a waterbender, Aang would still be stuck in the iceberg. He would have never learned waterbending." He paused before continuing in a softer tone, "And I…I'd be stuck running around the world foolishly, stuck under my father's authority."

"So don't make it sound like the world would've been better off if you weren't who you are today. Because that's a lie."

A single tear fell from Katara's eye, leaving a trail down her cheek. She didn't bother wiping it away. "Sorry," she finally said. "I'm usually not like this—you know, emotional and all that, and—"

"And acting without thinking twice about what might come out of it? Yeah, me too." After another beat of silence, Zuko said, "It's okay to be out of control sometimes." He placed his hand on Katara's shoulder, perhaps the most intimate gesture between the two since the catacombs of Ba Sing Se.

Truth be told, if Zuko closed his eyes, he could still feel her cool fingers pressed against his flesh, even though he'd lost sense of feeling in his scar long ago.

"And even if you don't realize it, you're still...centered. Because you didn't lose control, Katara. You didn't act on your emotions and you didn't kill him. And you're a stronger and wiser person than I ever was and probably ever will be."

"Would you kill your mother's killer?"

Zuko instantly jerked away, taken aback by the instant change of topic. Katara finally turned her head and focused her eyes on his. Her gaze was no longer angry, but very solemn and inquisitive. "I don't—she might not be dead," he said.

Katara frowned in confusion. "What?"

"It's a long story. But...she might be out there. Somewhere." Zuko uncomfortably shifted his gaze away from her. He didn't like how it affected him, made him catch his breath. He felt strangely naked around her, though he was fully clothed, like she was really  _looking_ at him, and he was looking at her. Katara was, after all, gorgeous. Like the sun: beautiful from the distance, but overwhelming if you got too close.

Ironic, because she was a waterbender.

"How do you know?"

Zuko fidgeted. He'd never disclosed exactly how he'd defected from the Fire Nation, the fact that he'd faced his father so head-on. "My father told me."

Katara's gaze softened. "Zuko, I don't want to be a downer, but for all you know your dad was lying."

"My father's a lot of things," Zuko said. "He's cold, heartless, cruel, delusional, and a horrible, horrible person…but he's not a liar. Even if he were lying, I don't want to…I need to believe he's not lying. Because if I dismissed it as a lie, and my mother's actually out there somewhere, but I never go looking for her…"

"You need to have hope," Katara finished for him. She watched as the sun crept higher in the sky.

"In the middle of the war, that's basically all we have going for us," he replied. He felt her watching him but, for whatever reason, felt himself unable to meet her eyes. "I was crazy enough to believe that the Avatar was out there. I'm still crazy enough to believe my mom's out there, too."

The pair flinched when they heard a familiar roar—Appa. Zuko turned around, seeing a tiny bald figure jog lightly down the pier, Appa lumbering behind him. "It's Aang." Zuko saw the sour taste on her lips, and, knowing that Katara still hadn't completely sorted things out, said, "I'll tell him."

As Zuko stood up and walked towards the bald monk, Katara's voice halted him once again, her fingers reaching up to grab his palm. He turned around to see that she wasn't even looking at him. "Hey, Zuko?"

The skin-to-skin contact was enough to cause Zuko to feel his heart echo in his chest as he said breathlessly, "Yeah?"

"Thanks." And just like that, the moment was over, because Katara released his hand.

Zuko stared at Katara's back, her long dark hair swaying softly in the wind. He blinked, wondering what exactly had just happened, and what exactly he was feeling.

Later that day, Zuko lay back alone in his tent, drifting off to sleep. He lifted his right hand and closed his fingers down into a fist, staring down hard at it, as if to pull out the memory into reality.

The brush of Katara's fingertips against his palm was seared into his memory, but it didn't burn the way that his father's fire had once burned is face. It wasn't a violent, painful fire. It was a gentle fire, a soothing one, one that kept him warm and comforted.  _I'm ready to forgive you,_  she'd said to him earlier, promptly before surprising Zuko with a hug. Those five words had a sense of resolution to them, but even more than that, they had a sense of  _beginning_  to them.

Zuko sighed, turning on his side. Now wasn't the time to think about girls, Zuko knew—just look at how he and Mai ended up. But that didn't stop him from wondering what the post-war life would look like.

 _Hope_. In the midst of the war, Zuko had said that was all they had going for them.

Zuko could hear Katara's voice from outside his tent as she murmured apologies to Sokka, not yet completely back to her former temperament, but still as sincere and honest and kind as she ever was.

Hope, indeed, was everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man I wrote this over two years ago and recently rediscovered it when I logged onto my old fan fiction account. Did some minor tweaking in terms of the writing, but overall I actually really like this one-shot. Hopefully more to come.


	2. One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Zuko debrief about the Ember Island Players play.

_SETTING: Season 3, Ep. 17: “The Ember Island Players” – The time after the Ember Island Players play and before Sozin’s Comet._

 

Katara wasn’t one who fell asleep easily. She often found herself awake at night consumed by thoughts of the past and worries of the future, only slipping into sleep when she’d finally exhausted all her energy. Nobody slept well these days, not with the war raging on. Sleep was for the privileged. 

She tossed and turned again, onto her back, eyes finding the ceiling of the house she was staying in. Never did she imagine she’d find herself lying on the bed that the Fire Nation princess herself had once slept in. The thought sent prickles down her spine; though Azula—as well as the rest of the royal family—hadn’t been here in years, Katara grew increasingly aware that she was not welcome here. Not in this room. Not in this house. Not in the Fire Nation. 

There had been a small hope in her for the Fire Nation, ignited after spending time hiding among them. After all, not everyone lived like the Royal Family: there was just as much poverty in the Fire Nation as there was in the Water Tribe, and the Earth Kingdom. There was just as much suffering. Yet witnessing the crowd at the Ember Island theater cheer along to the Firelord’s victory in the play left a sour taste in her mouth.

Katara sighed, then figured some fresh air would do her some good. Being careful not to wake Suki, whom she shared a bed with (Toph preferred sleeping on the floor), Katara kicked the blankets off and wandered down the hall onto the balcony. The moon, wide and pale and powerful as ever, stilled her heart a bit as her mind pressed with the image of play-Zuko and play-Aang being taken killed by fire.

“It was just a stupid play,” she muttered to herself, tracing her fingers along the wooden rail. “We’re the good guys. We’ll win.”

Because they had to win. There was so much suffering in the world: why make it worse by engaging in a hundred year war?

“Having trouble sleeping?”

Katana jumped, banging her elbow on the rail. “Ow!”

Zuko, who’d somehow manage to approach from behind without being heard _again_ , raised his eyebrows. “You don’t strike me as someone who gets scared easily, Katara.”

She rubbed her elbow, more affected by surprise rather than pain. “I don’t.” 

“Yeah, you don’t.” Zuko took a few steps forward and joined her onto the balcony, leaning his forearms against the rail, probably a little bit closer than necessary. But Katara didn’t mind. Actually, ever since their field trip to visit Yon Rha, she’s warmed up to him considerably. His presence no longer annoys her for no reason; in fact, Katara realized, she enjoyed his companionship.

“Why are you up?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“You sure you’re not just following me around?” Katara teased.

Zuko offered a small, lopsided grin, the kind that Katara used to never associate with Zuko’s hotheaded nature. “Well, that, too.”

Katara sighed, mirroring his posture so that her elbow rested mere inches from his. The unscarred side of his face was all she could see, and in that moment, it was almost as if they were both regular people. She replied after a few moments, “I hated that play.”

“Yeah, I get that. Watching me die isn’t exactly the way I was expecting to spend my evening.” Zuko frowned.

“Watching us lose is the last thing I want to see,” Katara said softly.

“We’re not going to lose,” Zuko said, sounding like he needed those words, too. “Aang’s firebending has improved a lot. He’ll be alright.” Zuko absentmindedly bended small orbs of fire, Katara’s eyes tracking the movement of his fingers as the flames danced. “We’ll be alright. That play wasn’t even kind of accurate in what happened. It won’t be accurate in what will happen. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Katara muttered, low enough that she didn’t think Zuko would hear.

But the guy had an uncanny sense of hearing. “Why do you say that?” Zuko said, almost defensively, dissipating the fire with a closed fist.

“I mean, obviously the characters weren’t,” Katara quickly corrected, because the last thing she wanted to imply was that the caricatures were accurate representations of herself and her friends. “But a lot of what we’ve been through? Over the past year? It seemed more or less accurate to me.”

Zuko snorted. “You mean like Aang being a woman?”

Katara laughed quietly. “Or Toph being a man.”

The corners of Zuko’s mouth turned upward. “Or you guys accepting me into your group without any resistance.”

“Or you and the Blue Spirit being two different people.”

“Or you having eyes for me since the day we first met.” Zuko shrugged. “Except that one might be kind of true.”

Immediately, Katara flinched as heat rushed up her face. “That’s—I—what—don’t be ridiculous!" 

Zuko chuckled. “Relax, Katara. I’m just kidding.”

Katara’s cheeks still felt warm, and she prayed a silent prayer of thanks to the spirits for giving her a dark complexion that hid her blushing well. “Kidding? I didn’t even know you knew how to do that.” She tried to regain her composure, focus on something other than the handsome prince standing next to her. “Stiff and humorless, you know.”

Zuko shifted on his feet, glancing at Katara. His eyes met hers, and he looked away. “You know what I mean, though? Don’t let the play bother you. _That_ would be ridiculous.” Katara sighed. Intellectually she knew that, but she also knew that ridiculous things tended to bother people.

Like Aang. He’d been so upset earlier over the stupid catacombs scene. In fact, they’d been standing on a balcony, just like she and Zuko were right now, when Aang had kissed her and—

Well, Katara was confused.

Obviously, she had a good reason to be—there was a war, after all, and there were bigger problems than romance. But Katara would be lying if she’d said that she hadn’t thought about it. Her and Aang, that is. They’d kissed, three times now, and she could understand why Aang felt so attached to her. Katara did admire him, his optimism, his kindness, and his wisdom. She loved him, she knew that, but she loved all her friends. She wasn’t sure about the extent to which she loved Aang.

To top it all off, Katara couldn’t even deny the growing attraction she had to Zuko. It had crept up on her. _He_ had crept up on her: gaining her trust, breaking it, earning his forgiveness, building their friendship. The deep sense of understanding and empathy that clicked naturally into place. He showed resilience and drive that Katara could only describe as foolish and big-hearted, and his humility and humanity that was so counter cultural in the Fire Nation could only be described as honorable. Just as how she admired Aang, she admired Zuko, but in a slightly different light.  

Because for once, Katara didn’t have to be the caretaker of yet another person. She could be a naïve young waterbender crushing on the crown prince of the Fire Nation.

“Are you okay?” Zuko’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Katara blinked. She hadn’t realized that she’d spaced out, again. “I’m fine.”

“You’re really quiet.”

“Just thinking.”

“What’s on your mind?”

 _You_ , she wanted to say. 

“Oh…nothing.” She rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling tense. “Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if I’d healed your scar?”

 Zuko, caught off guard by the question, physically took a step away from Katara, crossing his arms. “Huh?”

“You know, back in the crystal catacombs.”

“No, I know what you’re talking about. I just—why are you thinking about that?”

Katara shrugged. Honestly, the thought had just occurred to her. During those days when Aang was unconscious and the defeat of Ba Sing Se weighed heavy on Katara’s shoulders, her mind had thought back to Zuko and her offer to heal his scar. “Just seeing that scene in the play, it reminded me of that. I never got the chance to try.”

“It’s a scar.” Zuko echoed the words he spoke to her that day. “It can’t be healed.” 

“But if I had tried. Do you ever think about that?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I do.” He looked at Katara, the same intense look he’d always had, illuminated by the pale glow of the moon. “Things might’ve turned out differently. Maybe I would’ve joined you guys then, and I would’ve never betrayed my uncle. Or maybe,” Zuko looked away, “I would’ve still chosen to do the same thing.”

“I think about that, too,” Katara said quietly. “If I’d healed your scar and helped you realize your identity outside of it. How different things might be.”

_The mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever._

“I might never be free of my scar,” Zuko said with a note of finality, “but I _am_ free.”

Katara watched him, his expression stoic, gazing out at the waves pulling in and out on the shore. Compared to a few months ago, in the dimly lit caves of Ba Sing Se’s catacombs, he seemed so sure of himself. Katara wondered what must have had between then and the day of the eclipse that brought so much clarity to Zuko’s life. “After this war is over,” she added, “we’ll all be free.”

It was silent for a bit between them. Comfortable silence, the kind that settles deep in the bones, like a thick blanket paired with a warm cup of tea.

“Seeing the catacombs scene,” Zuko finally broke the silence, “reminded me of the first time we really _did_ meet.”

“I know,” Katara replied, the line _I’ve had eyes for you since the first day we met_ echoed in her mind, but she shut it down. Mostly. Because that wasn’t true—not totally true, anyway. “We were such different people." 

“We were,” Zuko said distantly. “And look at us now.”

“Look at us now,” Katara repeated, and Katara was suddenly struck with the intimacy of the moment.

The two made eye contact that lasted far longer than any gaze she’d ever held in her life, and it was at that moment that Katara realized, she could really love this guy. 

If the two had been born in different situations, during a time when there was no war, when the world’s fate did not rest in their hands. If Zuko wasn’t the banished prince destined for the throne, and if Katara wasn’t the passionate fighter of justice that embarked on the Avatar’s mission to save the world. 

And it’s at this moment that Katara realized, after the war is over, and after any political strife and turmoil calmed down, after they were free—she could really love this guy.

“Katara,” Zuko said quietly. He paused, as if assessing what to say, and Katara didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t know if she could handle any sorts of other confession, whether it was on Zuko’s part or hers, but she did know that this conversation, whatever was coming, would happen inevitably.

Leave it to a hundred year war to push back conversations to be had.

“Zuko, one day, when this war is over,” Katara remarked, “we’ll sit down, you’ll make some tea, and we can talk about the people we’ve become.”

Zuko’s eyes flickered down for a moment, just one millisecond, before returning back to Katara’s gaze. “And we can laugh at all the desperate things I did to capture Aang.”

“Maybe we’ll even laugh at an awful play about us.”

Zuko smiled. It was a whisper of a smile, humble and gentle and quiet. “In the mean time, you should go to bed. You need rest.”

“You, too.” They lingered for a breath longer, before walking into the house together and parting ways.

That night, Katara slept. She dreamed of glowing crystals and drinking tea and a boy whose scar did not define him, in a world that was at peace. That world wasn’t so far away, but for the time being, she would have to be content with this one, believing that tomorrow would bring her one day closer to a world where she was completely free.

Limitless, weightless, no confusion. Just peace.

That world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been itching to write and I think I eventually want to write a fic that covers things that A:TLA would have gone over had Book 4 not been cancelled (forever bitter that it did), but in the mean time, I'm just going to post one shots of canon-compliant interactions I wish we'd seen between Katara and Zuko. And maybe the rest of the gang, if I'm feeling particularly inspired to do so (though let's be real--Zutara not being canon is the driving force behind these fics).


	3. Unconditional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How post-Agni Kai interactions between Zuko and Katara would've played out. Taking place right after Katara takes down Azula and before Zuko's coronation.

_SETTING: Season 3, Ep. 21: "Avatar Aang." - Right when Katara takes down Azula and rushes to Zuko's side_.

 

She couldn't breathe.

Her body pumped adrenaline through her body, pushing her heart to beat a little faster and her lungs to contract more and more, yet Katara still felt like she couldn't breathe. Because right behind her was a Fire Princess wailing like a tortured ghost, and too far away was the crumpled body of the stupid Fire Prince who'd jumped in front of lightening.

 _To save her_.

Katara sprinted towards him, his body too still, facedown--when did he flip over?--and he look dead.  _Zuko looked dead_. But she heard faint groans, subconscious sounds of pain and frustration, and she knew he was a live. Thank the spirits, he wasn't dead--not yet.

Katara kneeled at Zuko's side, gently turning him over, feeling her fingers brush through the singed tips of his hair. His robe had torn apart, ripped by the sheer force of Azula's lightening that could only have been made stronger by Suzan's comet, and Katara's throat tightened. She looked down at the burned tissue, red and scaly and beginning to blister, and recalled the last time she'd seen an injury inflicted by the same person.

Aang had died. Somehow, with the spirit water, she'd brought him back.

But she didn't have spirit water. So she could not, would not, let Zuko die.

She'd lost members from her tribe. She'd lost Jet.

She'd lost her mother.

And damn it, she wouldn't let the last death of the 100 Year War be Zuko's.

The water felt gentle and comforting as Katara drew it out from her pouch. She placed her palms over Zuko's marred flesh. The skin was feverish and seemed to sizzle under the water. Katara tried to picture it then, Zuko's flesh regenerating and healing, but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was a flash of lightening coming towards her. A body jumping in front of it, arms outstretched. And the word  _"No!"_ drawn out.

 _How could he have done that? Why had he done that?_  

Katara heard a grunt, then a sigh. She opened her eyes, seeing Zuko's golden eyes looking up at her. It was the most relieved expression she'd ever seen Zuko wear, and tears began to well up in her eyes--thank the Spirits, he was  _alive_.

"Thank you, Katara," he whispered.

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you."

Katara helped him to his feet, one arm around his shoulders. Zuko swayed a bit, then steadied himself, and Katara placed a hand on his back, wishing there was more she could do for him. But Zuko was determined to remain upright and his hard gaze fixed itself on his sister.

Although Katara was overjoyed that Zuko survived, the joy didn't last long, not with Azula's sobs and screams piercing the otherwise silent air. Azula collapsed on the ground with arms still tied behind her and tears streaming down her face.  _Something about her seems off_ , Zuko had said, it turned out that he couldn't have been more right. They stood in silence like that, for a while. Katara didn't even realize she'd been leaning into Zuko instinctively for comfort until he spoke and she could feel the vibrations of his voice through his back.

"What are we going to do with her?" He asked, voice cracking midway through the sentence. And it was at that moment, Katara realized, that Azula's brokenness was making Zuko heartbroken, for her. "We can't keep her chained up forever."

"We can't unchain her, either," Katara replied softly.

"I can't kill her," Zuko said. Not once did his eyes leave Azula. "She might be able to kill me, but I...I can't do it."

Katara nodded. "You don't have to."

"I thought I could. And when we were fighting, I--it was obviously inevitable that one of us would have to. That's the only way this would end. Either I'd kill her and claim the throne, or she'd kill me and become Fire Lord."

"I know, Zuko."

"I can't do it. I can't."

Katara slid her hand up to his shoulder, squeezing gently. "She would've killed me, Zuko. I owe you my life."

This caused Zuko to turn his head slightly, his chin brushing the top of Katara's fingers. "And I owe you mine." He glanced at Azula. "In more ways than one." And with that, Katara immediately understood. She knew that in spite of all the awful things Azula had done to Zuko--the ways she'd tormented him, abused him, injured and lied to him, and broken him--Zuko loved her. The golden-hearted boy possessed a deep kind of unconditional love that couldn't be shaken by hate, but rather, overcame it. Others may have called it foolish, but Katara admired that most about him.

"Let's go," Katara said, grasping the palm of his hand with her fingers and tugging him along toward the palace doors. "We can send someone to get her and we'll...I don't know. We'll keep her locked up, maybe, so she can't hurt anyone or herself for the time being."

"There's no way we'll be able to keep her locked up forever."

Zuko's fingers naturally entangled themselves in hers, and Katara let herself wonder when they'd become close enough for such intimate physical content. " _We will figure something out_. Now come on, your body's not going to last long on that short healing session."

"You underestimate yourself."

"You overestimate yourself."

"Prince Zuko!" As they exited a courtyard, a voice called out, and both Katara and Zuko turned their head to see an elderly man dressed in Fire Sage clothing, halfway across the courtyard from them. The old man looked at the fallen form of the crying princess.

"This Agni Kai is over," Zuko said in a regal tone that Katara realized she'd need to grow accustomed to. The thought of Zuko as, well...actual royalty had never hit her until just now, when she realized that the soon-to-be Fire Lord was right by her side...holding her hand. "And I'm here to claim the throne."

The Fire Sage bowed reverently. "I have just received word that Ozai has fallen. The Avatar has won."

Warmth blossomed in Katara's chest. The Agni Kai she'd just witnessed felt like a war in it of itself, so much so that she'd temporarily forgotten about Aang. "Aang. He came through."

Zuko smiled a small smile, and he gripped her fingers a little tighter. If the Sage noticed their joined hands, he didn't acknowledge it. Zuko looked up at the sky, which had already begun to fade from a bloody red color to a hazy pink and purple as the comet finally finished its journey through the earth's atmosphere. "Just like you said. He had to." Zuko straightened. "I need my sister transported to a secure location that is preferably not the prison. Keep her as restrained as possible and watch your back around her. Let the other Sages know that the coronation will be in a couple of hours. Release all the prisoners of war and be prepared to hold the ceremony outside of the palace entrance--I'm officially going to release the decree that the Fire Nation stands down, and this war is over."

 "Yes, your highness." The Fire Sage bowed one more time before leaving to relay his messages.

"Does this mean I have to start bowing to you every time I see you?" Katara teased.

"Customarily all subjects bow to the Fire Lord," Zuko said, "but I don't exactly fit the customs."

"There's the fact that I'm your friend, too."

"Yeah," Zuko said softly in a tone that perplexed Katara. "That." She realized that his breath was quickening, and that his face looked pale. Despite his strength, Zuko was still injured. The two slowed down.

Zuko lead her into the palace, down red corridors with red carpets, and red walls and red tapestries. Katara became increasingly aware that she stood out in her traditional blue Water Tribe garments. But as Zuko lead her to his private chambers--or what she assumed were his private chambers, before he'd been banished and before he'd left to join their team--Katara recalled the Fire Sage nodding humbly to Zuko's orders.

Long ago, Katara was convinced that the Fire Nation was all evil, that all citizens and army members were full of hatred and war, in their blood. But as she recalled the humble bows of the Fire Sage, and even more, the journey of the friend that stood right beside her, all she could see was the loyalty and dignity of people who cared about their country.

Perhaps none of them were all that different after all.

"You know, you could've let me heal you outside, instead of taking me through the maze of a palace that you've got here," Katara said. She helped Zuko into a chair, where he leaned back and allowed her to bend water over his wounds again. This time, Katara leisurely went about it, focusing less on fixing broken body parts and focusing more on comfort and pain relieving.

Zuko grunted, clenching his fists. Obviously the pain relieving aspect of Katara's healing had a slight delay to it. "I need to look strong," Zuko said. "The coronation is going to be soon."

"You need to be  _healed_."

"I can't afford to appear weak."

"So what? You're human. Get used to it."

Zuko shook his head, hair falling into his eyes, the way it always did. "No, Katara. My country needs me. People around the world, they're going to be overjoyed that it's the end of the war. My people are going to be scared." He sighed. "I wish ending a war could just be an easy transition."

Katara nodded, listening intently, but not really processing much of what he was saying. All she could see was the scar across his abdomen. The two were silent for a while, the only sound between them being the water that made gentle gurgling noises. They could've stayed like that for hours or even days, and Katara wouldn't even notice the passing of time.  It was only when she heard soft snores that she noticed Zuko dozing. It had been a while since any of them had slept well--even when they had gotten the chance to sleep, nightmares and anxiety tended to plague every dark corner. Katara continued working, handling Zuko gingerly to not wake up. 

A few times within the next hour, servants would come by, offering water or food to Katara or the soon-to-be Fire Lord, as well as inquiring the status of him. Katara did her best to keep up with the authority that Zuko had displayed, but the truth was, Katara hadn't been trained on how to handle authority. Rather than ordering the servants to bring the prince's finest robes as well as bandages to fix him up, Katara asked kindly. Perhaps this was the reason why one of the servants, a young girl who couldn't have been any older than Katara herself, asked in an excited whisper, "Are you Prince Zuko's lover?"

Katara nearly choked on a cherry she'd taken to eating. "What?"

"Will you be the new Fire Lady?"

Despite the heat rising to her cheeks, Katara smiled and shook her head. "No, I'm just a good friend."

The servant sighed. "It would've been so interesting to have a waterbender as a Fire Lady." She giggled with her friend, who held the bowl of cherries. "So unexpected."

Unexpected indeed. Katara unraveled the bandages provided by the servants--the quality was far better than anything she'd had growing up in the Water Tribe, thick and luxurious--and applied a burn salve that a healer offered. As she wrapped the bandages around Zuko's stomach and chest, he stirred, finally waking up. The first thing he saw when opening his eyes were Katara's concerned gaze. "Who knew taking over the throne could be so exhausting?" He said.

"How do you feel?"

"Better. A lot better, actually." Katara wrapped the bandages up Zuko's collarbone, and he lifted his shoulder off the chair to provide easier access. His eyes followed Katara's movements. "I could take on another lightening bolt any time now."

Katara frowned. "Don't even joke about that."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A little less than two hours. The Sages are ready. Everybody's waiting for you." Katara secured the bandages in place with a pin. "You'd better get your robes on. They're over on that table."

Zuko stood up beside Katara, standing strong and tall. Aside from the bandages, he looked like a picture of health. "Thank you, Katara."

"Quit thanking me," she said, nudging him. She slung the strap of her water pouch over her shoulder and across her chest. "There'll be plenty of other things to thank me for in the future. Not to mention," her eyes glanced down at the bandages again, "I owed you one."

"You owe me nothing, Katara," Zuko said, stepping closer to her. Katara knew she should step away, knew that no good could ever come out of this...intimacy they had, but she didn't. She couldn't.

Because no matter how hard she tried, she'd just be pulled back in.

"I saw Aang die," Katara said quietly. "That could've been you today. I never want to see someone that close to dying such a painful death, ever again."

Zuko gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of Katara's face, his expression, despite the harsh scar that marked his dark past, the softest, most comforting expression in the world. Katara had seen that expression, on her father's face, every time they were reunited. She saw the expression on Aang's face whenever he spoke about Monk Gyatso, and Sokka every time he thought about Suki.

It was one of love, and it scared her, because it was so tempting and so  _good_ , that why shouldn't she indulge in it?

"I'd do it again," Zuko said in a low voice, "I wouldn't even hesitate."

A gentle knock startled them both, breaking the spell and whatever what could've happened. "Excuse me, your highness. Hakoda of the Water Tribe is requesting to see his daughter."

Katara glanced at Zuko apprehensively, then down at his wound once again. Zuko waved off her worry. "You should go. Your dad must be worried about you."

"Okay."

"I'll be out soon. If you see Aang, let him know that I want him standing right by my side during my coronation."

"Okay."

"And Katara?"

She turned one last time.

"Thank you."

Katara smiled, accepting it along with all the other feelings between them, not knowing where any of them--their friends, their families, their countries, the world--were going to go. But the war was over, her friends were alive, and Katara could wake up tomorrow knowing that peace--whether or not it came easy--was coming.

"You're welcome, Zuko." She bowed. "Fire Lord Zuko."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be less than a thousand words but it ended up being almost 2500, meanwhile I can't even write 500 words for my original fiction book wow go me.


	4. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the war, Katara and Zuko have a quick chat about the looming changes that are to come. Takes place right after the end of the series.

_SETTING: right after the final episode, the Jasmine Dragon tea shop._

 

"So, you and Aang, huh?"

Katara jumped, whipping her head around only to find Zuko leaning against the frame of the entrance of the Jasmine Dragon. His eyes glowed a warm amber, and he chuckled slightly at Katara's startled reaction. In his hands were two cups of steaming tea. With his traditional Earth Kingdom garments, Zuko didn't look like one of the most powerful political figures in the world. He just looked like a young man who served tea in a tea shop. Katara felt her skin warming, and it wasn't just because of the setting sun. She tried to say a clever retort, but all that came was a noise similar to that of when Momo choked on food.

"Relax," Zuko said, stepping forward to gaze at the horizon beside her. "I'm just here to see if you want some tea."

"More tea? I think this is probably the fourth cup you're offering me today."

"Is that a no?" Zuko teased, holding out the cup to her.

"Thanks." Katara gingerly picked up the cup between two hands, enjoying the warmth. She sips it carefully, so as not to burn her tongue. "You and Iroh are going to spoil us with good tea; we'll never be able to drink it anywhere else."

"That's the plan. It's a tough market, you know, selling just tea."

"Yeah, it's not like being part of the royal Fire Nation family can cover your living costs," Katara teased.

"With the amount of food Sokka will definitely request?" Zuko muttered. "Not nearly."

As Zuko closed his eyes to take a satisfying drink, Katara's eyes lingered on his features. His health had already improved considerably since the Agni Kai with Azula--it felt like it'd been ages ago, when really, it was just that morning--and she wondered what he was thinking. How he was feeling. There was a definite peace, of course, but there was also an unsettling feeling that Katara couldn't shake, because for the first time in her life, Katara realized, big changes were going to happen. 

Big changes, like when Katara cracked open that iceberg, nearly a year ago now. 

"How are you feeling?" Katara asked.

"Aside from the obvious relief?" Zuko replied. He sighed deeply, a steady inhale and exhale that stretched on for miles. "Scared. Nervous. I don't know how to be a Fire Lord."

Katara nudged Zuko gentle with her elbow. "Lighten up. You did great today."

"Right. Public speaking. Because that's all it takes to be Fire Lord nowadays."

"You won't be alone," she said, ignoring his obvious snark. On any other given day, Katara wouldn't have tolerated remarks like this. But today wasn't any other given day, and she needed to be there for her friend. Her eyes involuntarily glanced towards his abdomen, knowing that underneath his robe was a skin marred by his fierce loyalty to his friends. "You won't be alone," she repeated. "You'll have Iroh to guide you. Aang will help you make peace, too. And do you really think I'm going to stay out of the way while you settle things?"

The corner of Zuko's mouth quirked up. "That's the last thing I expect of you."

"Exactly. So stop worrying so much, Zuko."

"I'm just nervous," he said quietly. Zuko placed his cup on the railing ledge, running his fingers through his hair and leaning forward on his elbows. The last time they stood like this, it was on Ember Island, it was the night time, and there was still a war going on. It felt like ages ago now, like they were in a whole different world back then. "You know, I know it might be hard to see, but the Fire Nation is the most broken out of all the nations." Zuko hesitated, then amended himself. "Except for the Air Nomads, of course."

"What do you mean?"

"The Earth Kingdom was conquered," Zuko said. "The Southern Water Tribe was robbed of its people, and the Air Nomads are nearly extinct. But the Fire Nation..." Zuko stared into the tea leaves floating in his tea. "We really thought we were the greatest country ever. I'm not worried about the politics, Katara. I'm worried about how to deal with a people who are pissed because everything they've been taught...is a lie."

Katara opened her mouth, ready to argue, but found that she couldn't. She thought about the reckless banished prince who sincerely thought that capturing the Avatar would give him everything he wanted in the world. And Katara realized that, maybe, it wasn't that there were ever really bad people--there were people who just didn't know the truth. "You will figure it out," she promised.

"I hope so." Zuko turned his eyes to her. "Otherwise I might end up working in Uncle's tea shop my whole life."

"Are you complaining about that?"

"Yes." Katara raised her eyebrows, and Zuko smiled. "No."

"I wouldn't mind if you and Iroh lived in his tea shop the rest of your lives," Katara said, "as long as I get free tea forever."

The two elapsed in a silence, and Katara's mind started seizing on random details, like the sharp angle of Zuko's jaw, or the way his hair looked more auburn in the sunlight rather than black. How, despite drawing his bending from the sun, Zuko's skin was still the color of fresh porcelain tea cups, and how he smelled like smoke and tea leaves.

Which was stupid, of course. After all, Katara had just spent the past few minutes making out with the Avatar. 

Spirits, what did she get herself into?

Part of it just  _made sense_ in her mind. Aang was sweet. He was kind. He was brave, and he was the Avatar, and he loved her--she didn't doubt that. But what Katara had said during the Ember Island play was true: she'd been confused. So what had changed? The war? Was that enough of a change to get her to start smooching the same guy she'd let down not too long ago?

Katara leaned her back against the railing, facing the opposite direction of Zuko, tea still in her hand, and watched as Aang leaned over Sokka's self-declared "masterpiece" and presumably critiqued him. It had  _felt_ right. So why, standing here beside Zuko, did it feel so wrong?

"What are you going to do now?" Zuko broke the silence. He turned sideways to face his friend. "Now that the war's over."

"Well, first, Sokka and I are returning home." Upon noticing Zuko's face falling a bit, Katara quickly continued, "just for a little while. I need to see my grandmother, just so she knows I'm alive. It'll be interesting to see her with Paku, too." Zuko nodded. "Then I'll be back."

"With Sokka?"

"Sokka and Suki, yes. We'll be here wherever you need us--Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom."

"Toph said she's going home for a bit, too. To see her parents."

"We'll see how long that lasts," Katara replied dryly. "Toph definitely won't be wanting to hang around in the quiet life her parents have envisioned for her."

"And Aang?"

Katara heard a bit of... _something_ in Zuko's voice, and it wasn't jealousy or hurt, but it was definitely something. She recognized it and likened the emotion to be similar to that of understanding. "I wish he could just relax for a bit," she said quietly. "He went from being this twelve-year-old kid to having the entire world thrown onto his shoulders."

"He's strong," Zuko said.

"I know. It's just not fair, you know? We all had to grow up so fast. But at least people like me and Sokka, we have the luxury of being normal, now that the war's over. But you and Aang..."

Katara drank in between sentences, enjoying the blooming herbal taste that lingered in her mouth like the many words between them left unsaid. She wondered how this conversation would be going, right now, if she hadn't initiated a kiss with Aang.

Zuko nodded. It was a lot, everything that happened and everything that was happening. 

"Remember what you said?" Zuko said. "About talking about how much we've changed?"

Katara felt a storm cloud gather in her stomach. She had half expected Zuko to forget it--but of course, how could he, when she herself recalled that conversation every single day since it had taken place? "Yes?"

"I get the feeling we're going to be having a lot of those in the future, aren't we?"

Katara laughed a laugh that wasn't quite a laugh; it was more of a breath and stopped almost as soon as it started. "Looks like we're going to have to."

"I'd better start saving up more tea to brew."

"That sounds about right." Katara brought her eyes up to Zuko's feeling almost afraid to make eye contact, but also afraid to break it. "Like I said, Zuko. You have us. We all have each other. And that's one thing that won't change."

Zuko smiled wryly. "Really? You promise that?"

"I promise." Katara finished her tea. "I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm not all too happy with this. But I'm planning on writing a wicked long fic about Book Four (on my profile) and I just felt like I needed to have closure on the series before opening up a whole new world within ATLA. So here you go. One scene I would've liked to see, even after a Katara/Aang make out session.


End file.
